


Sillage - Episode tag to 4.21

by IreneClaire



Series: Various Notions Collection [2]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bromance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, Gen, Makani 'olu a holo malie 4.21
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 19:25:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2121831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneClaire/pseuds/IreneClaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.</p><p>Notes: Sillage - pronounced as sE-yazh. Noun. Defined as the scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume. A spontaneous one-shot from a single word prompt which turned into an episode tag for Season 4's "Makani 'olu a holo malie" (4.21).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sillage - Episode tag to 4.21

 

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

He had told her that he understood. But emotionally, that was a complete lie; he didn't understand at all. With not one fiber of his being did he understand why Catherine felt so very strongly about Amir Khan, his son, Najib, and the small family unit. In the fervency of his core, her decision and drive were inexplicably beyond duty and a logical sense of morality despite the extent of which Najib's family had cared for her and then subsequently kept her hidden and safe from the Taliban. But to go back? To remain there alone? The stakes were phenomenally higher and the risks insurmountable.

As Catherine had so boldly said to him,  _"It sounds crazy, but I'm going."_

On every emotional level, what she had chosen to do completely defied all sensibility. For the very first time, Steve had no say in a matter from when it had begun and now, to where it might literally end.

Exhausted, more than sore and utterly deflated, Steve couldn't move from where he was sitting on the edge of his sofa. Beaten down within an inch of his life, abused and used by a very real enemy, he'd very nearly bought it for good this time. A sporadic cough had him gasping as a deep ache settled in his chest. Grappling one-handed to support badly damaged ribs, his phone fell to the floor.

Yes, her decision had been crazy and now he completely rued her stubbornness. Except when it came to that particular quality, one  _Steve McGarrett_  could not fault another for being obstinate; it was a shared trait. So, he had gone  _for_  her and now … she had freely chosen to remain behind. In his exhaustion, his mind was a muddled place from which he couldn't derive reason. Anger mixed with an out of control feeling of distress. Steve's breath hitched in his chest and he winced from the resulting sharp pain caused by deeply set muscular bruising. Ribs were broken, tendons were strained in an arm which also suffered from a severely dislocated shoulder. Adding insult, the severity of a concussion continuously left him sickly dizzy.

He tried to blame the cold sweat, the nausea and the overwhelming emotional wave solely on his physical ills but it was useless. All of those would constitute another lie.

The stabbing pain which settled in the center of his chest partnered devastatingly with his second sharply broken inhale. The pain refused to abate and it was all enough to force him to his feet in a ridiculous attempt to beat new demons down into submission with the old. Instead, Steve wound up staggering and losing his balance to pitch forward. He slammed both shins hard into this coffee table and this time, he yelped out loud.

"Damn it." A whimper of meaningless syllables which still relayed a dreaded significance broke the silence as Steve caught himself on the knuckles of his left hand. He added another bruise to an array that already covered him from head to toe.

"Damn it. Catherine." Words were whispered more loudly as he stayed bent over in half, gulping in air which now sounded suspiciously like a sob. Steve struggled to his feet heaving uncontrollably. She shouldn't have stayed behind. Worse, he shouldn't have left  _her_. But where Catherine had a choice, Steve had nothing. He simply wasn't being permitted to stay, of which Danny was quite adamant, with both the CIA and Navy Intelligence being much more-so with threats of being thrown into the brig. Hands were tied, all bets were off, favors fulfilled, and not even the enviable clout of Joe White could offer solace.

Using walls to stay on his feet, Steve managed to stumble to the first floor bathroom needing to soak his face in sheets of cold water. He managed with one hand, sluicing off the water to finally hang over the sink while the water still pounded into the porcelain. He smelled it then. Her first vaguely defined floral trail of awapuhi kuahiwi flowers. The botanical shampoo was Catherine's preferred and it left her hair pleasantly perfumed. The odor lingered so faintly, Steve was sure that he was dreaming it up.

Spontaneously, he turned and fumbled through the shower until he found the bottle and thumbed the lid open. His first inhale was a mistake because it unraveled him and the real tortured sound finally was fully audible.

"And here I thought I'd find you sniffing glue."

"Danny!" Steve choked first in shock and then again in a paroxysm which combined laughter, embarrassment and tears. "Why'd ... you come ...back?"

Hours earlier and beginning to reel from exhaustion, Danny had wanted to stay and had ardently argued his case. There had barely been a line between the heated discussion and all out argument where Steve had illogically persevered. Still, Danny had fought tooth and nail to get into the house even after Steve had shut down and tuned him out with a darkly clouded expression. Tenacious to the very last-minute, the man who had traveled literally to the end of the earth to rescue Steve McGarrett, had resentfully backed down in the supposed safety and tranquility of Oahu.

"Why … are you …here?" Stifling pained sounds and unable to catch his breath, Steve's eyes were tightly closed as he allowed Danny to retrieve the shampoo bottle from his hand which was shaking uncontrollably. There was a snap as the bottle was closed, followed by a solid plunk to prove it had been tossed back into the shower stall. Firm hands found the few areas on his arms and sweaty back not layered in contusions, bruises or otherwise damaged from the Taliban's brutality.

"Why? Because of this, you goof. Besides in your continued infinite wisdom, you left the door unlocked." Danny had sat in Steve's driveway until his stubborn partner had made it into his house. From where he sat, he watched the lone light go on in the main living area. Resentfully and much against his best judgement, which was certainly serving him very well of late when it came to all things ' _McGarrett_ ', Danny had indeed left. But three circuits around the same neighborhood block with eyes burning from his own overwhelming jet-lagged fatigue, and Danny had returned with his a belligerent justified complaint of ' _stupid Neanderthals be damned'._

Danny was perturbed that the front door wasn't locked, but he was more stunned to find Steve in the bathroom. In tears and near to collapsing, Steve was literally strangling a bottle of shampoo as he sniffed the pearlescent gel. After removing the bottle from his hand, Danny eased his partner from the small room. "Come with me. What you're ...  _uh_  ... doing is really not making much sense."

"She called just now." Permitting himself to be tugged along, Steve blindly followed his partner from the bathroom, dripping water down his face, neck and allowing it to soak into his shirt. Steve thought he could be alone. He thought he could handle it …. whatever 'it' was but that was an impossible task if he thought sniffing a bottle of awaphui shampoo was a fine solution. He'd been made to leave Catherine behind by no fault of his own design. Then even worse, Catherine had opted to stay as her own self-declared brand of mercenary. In truth, he didn't understand and he didn't know what to do because he had been left with zero choices in the matter.

"Cath just called." Repeating himself, Steve inhaled sharply and winced as his voice broke in half. "She's not coming back, Danno."

"We knew that, Steve." Danny's voice was subdued, understanding and as gentle as if he were speaking to Grace after an unexpected nightmare. They knew, but the reality hadn't quite sunken in until that very moment. In all actuality, Danny was surprised that Catherine had called so soon because Steve was so very vulnerable. Of course she would though, and as soon as humanly possible to make sure Steve was in the States. She would have needed to make sure he was alright, she would have hoped to put him at ease and yet, she would have tried to make him understand her drive to stay. It was a vicious circle between two people whom loved each other, but there was no fine solution to make both happily content.

Still, Danny felt the call was too soon since the timing dove-tailed with an arduous return trip home. It triggered a confusing flood of emotions which were entirely governing Steve's response. Danny felt a small discomforting surge of annoyance because Steve had no wherewithal left to process the news again. He had no time to take a breather or ready himself for the reality of Catherine's decision.

"You need to lay down. Now." Firmly in control and allowing no argument, Danny kept his voice neutral. Virtually holding his partner up and attempting to aim him from the downstairs bathroom towards the second floor bedroom, Danny was now left to deal with the fallout.

"No," Steve pulled back as Danny approached the first step. She had left invisible footprints everywhere. The bathroom ... and god help him, he was going to find traces of Catherine in the bedroom. They were going to have an argument based upon Danny's lock-jawed expression though as Steve shook his head, "Down here tonight."

"What do you mean  _no_. Why?" Danny was flummoxed by his partner's refusal. "I need the sofa and you need your bed. You need to get off your damned feet and for more than just a few hours!"

Stupidly, Steve blinked watery mist from his eyes as Danny glared angrily now up into his face. He didn't know what to say as a garbled sound emanated from his throat along with a lame attempt at a shrug.

"Not good enough. Move." Palming his forehead before scrubbing his fingers into his hair, Danny was beginning to lose his original calm. That same hand re-anchored itself to Steve's bicep with a stronger upwards push only to meet resistance once more. Unable to help himself, Danny's voice increased in volume as Steve wobbled under his hand and breathed erratically in a loud, disconcerting manner. "Every doctor who has deigned to check your ass from freaking Afghanistan to the time we landed, wants you in bed, Steven. In fact, a hospital was largely preferred and I have a mind to take your sorry ass there right now."

Danny was instantly sorry for expressing the threat as Steve tried to roughly shirk out of his hands. Their argument was escalating and it was something which neither truly needed or even wanted. "Listen to me." Recanting slightly, Danny regained his grip with a lesser but reasonable demand which still managed to convey his ongoing frustration. "We're both exhausted and you … Steve, you can't  _not_  need to lay down."

Danny was right. The truth was that Steve wanted desperately to get off his feet. Yet, he still couldn't force himself to move for the impressions Catherine had left behind in the house. He could smell her despite the aged scent of travel in his nose which was combined with the reek of antiseptic and his own need for a shower. Leaning his shoulders weakly against the wall behind him while Danny left imprints in his arm, Steve closed his eyes before vainly shaking his head as another shuddered inhale impinged lungs against damaged ribs.

"You should have been sniffing glue," The largely forbearing sigh dropped Danny's voice into a lower intoned octave.

"Danno?" The stalwart presence of his partner disappeared and Steve peeled his eyes open to slits to watch the slow progress as Danny tugged himself tiredly up the short flight of stairs. He swallowed hard meaning to apologize but lost his voice entirely as Danny disappeared into the master bedroom.

Once upstairs, Danny stood in the gloom looking from one corner to the other for signs of Catherine. "Shampoo, of all things." His whisper was incredulous and one day, they might see the humor it in. But that night, Danny was taken aback by the depth of Steve's sorrow.

It had taken Danny's tired mind quite some time to process the  _why_  to his own question; the  _why_  to finding his partner pining over a bottle of floral shampoo. So he stood there now in the quiet of his best friend's bedroom looking for obvious signs of Catherine's existence. Blessedly, Danny saw little until he approached the bedside table where he silently swept the small sparkling stud earrings into the palm of his hand. The bed had been made up with a military precision and he pulled back comforter and top sheet, peering rudely under pillows, thankful to find nothing.

The sharp gold backing to the small earrings left tiny dents in his palm as he surveyed the top of the large walnut bureau. From there, Danny only selected the small bottle of perfume, errant hair ribbons and small bracelet. Drawing the line at searching drawers, he merely opened the first to gently deposit Catherine's belongings in one particular corner. Moving swiftly then, he literally punched the lights on in the adjacent bathroom. He blinked and hissed as the bright fluorescents stabbed his eyes. But Danny was relieved to find that Catherine had likely taken any other necessities with her because there was nothing to be found.

To be sure, he checked the shower stall and small cupboard. But military habits ingrained an ability to travel light and keep things simple. For once, Danny appreciated the economy of a spartan existence. For now, the visuals were at least out of sight to be cared for later when Steve was more prepared.

"It's all good. Come on." Seconds later he was back at the foot of the stairs, not all that surprised to see that Steve hadn't moved an inch.

"I'm tired, Danno." The rare admission was fraught with so much more than that and Danny frowned as he took Steve's elbow.

"No doubt. You have nothing to worry about upstairs. I'm going to tuck you in and then we are both getting some shut-eye." Deflecting the pending thanks, Danny wisely said no more because he knew that Steve knew precisely what he'd been doing. There was no need for any further explanation.

Taking more of Steve's weight with each rising step, Danny was morose by the time he'd gotten his partner seated on the edge of the bed. Wordlessly, he divested Steve of boots and then carefully helped with the sling and travel-worn clothing. His jaw tightened around a black expression as he eyed the cuts, bruises and multi-colored contusions peeking out from the volume of bandages around Steve's middle.  _He had almost been killed ... they had almost retrieved a corpse and Danny had nearly witnessed every single dismal step of it. The injuries were bad ... and it was an other-worldly experience to actually be home._

He was caught up in his thoughts when he looked up to find Steve staring at him much the same way as in the military hospital. Danny's face closed off completely as he unconsciously flexed already bound muscles into his neck which only served to worsen the throb of his tension headache.

"Just shut up for once." Danny didn't mean to sound heartless. In fact, he was far from it and he also knew Steve knew that particular fact. He didn't want to hear any more thanks or the wonder in his friends' voice that he'd actually come for him. To Afghanistan. To rescue him from the most unlikely of enemies as a lowly civilian ' _nothing_ ' who had inescapably managed to rally what felt like an entire military SEAL team. Mortified by the magnitude of what had happened, Danny still wasn't getting off easy as Steve struggled back to his feet using his shoulder for balance. "What are you doing now? If you need your meds, I'll get them for you."

Danny tried to sit his partner back down but failed as darkly exhausted eyes glanced distractedly around the bedroom. He waited until Steve gave a cursory nod of half-satisfaction. What he thought would happen next didn't though as Danny gently grasped the quaking shoulders. Instead of guiding Steve back to the bed, Danny caught his partner as he fell forward into him with a soft odd moan of loss and a sincere thankfulness.

"Thanks ... for coming back." The muffled words were fraught with sadness and Danny snorted in soft reply.

"Trust me I tried not to," Danny groused uselessly as he successfully untangled himself from under his partner's draped upper body. "Had I known you were huffing shampoo though, I never would left in the first place."

Steve laughed then. A barked cough that combined a few tears but was definitely tinged with laughter. What had happened was absurd and Steve's outburst now ended in a moaned cough as stray tears slid down the side of his face. He hurt down to the very soles of his feet as his breath altered again with an unhealthy hitch.

"Sit." Gently, Danny maneuvered Steve down until he could help him slide under sheets and comforter to land on pillows which had been tripled somewhere along the way. Knowing that Steve would refuse the sling, Danny wended another pillow under the injured arm. After that, there was really nothing to say. Steve was struggling in earnest to keep his eyes open and seemingly still amazed to continually find his partner diligently perched on the side of the bed.

"Danno, seriously." Whispering around the hoarseness in his throat, Steve blinked rapidly, stunned by the tremble coursing through his body. He wanted to thank his partner for the thousandth time. For every rareness of their unlikely friendship even though he certainly knew based upon the mockingly aggravated eye roll and the way Danny shoved the blanket gently up around his wounded chest.

"Seriously enough, Steve. You're worse than Grace. Go to sleep already." Desperate to lay down himself, Danny was determined to stay until the agitated movements ceased completely. He partially grinned as a finger rose on Steve's left hand. It was some sort of question or comment, but Danny was shaking his head. "If you're worried about me making friends with your sofa, don't be. Been there and done that too many times to count."

The soft knowing chuffed sound faded as quickly as the glassy shine in Steve's eyes when they finally slid shut. Easing to his own feet, Danny waited just long enough to be sure that Steve was absolutely committed to sleeping. By the eventual steadier rise and fall of his chest, his physical body had happily made that decision for his injured and emotionally exhausted friend.

Sneaking back down to the first floor, Danny diligently locked the front door and dimmed all the lights. Kicking off shoes, his foot accidentally hit Steve's cell phone which had fallen partially under the coffee table. Taking time to turn it off, Danny brazenly texted Chin and Kono from his own that both men were home and safely ensconced in Steve's house. His subsequent request was a lack of interruption for the foreseeable future barring the threat of aliens arriving on Diamond Head. He fell asleep scare moments later on the sofa, under a borrowed blanket and perfectly content.

Upstairs though, Steve had shifted in his sleep to half-wake in a bleary state of confusion as an agonizing burn tore through his arm, shoulder and neck. Breathing heavily through his nose as his stomach twisted, he woke just enough to realize he was home and safely housed in his own bedroom. Danny was downstairs, likely already slumbering on the sofa and Steve found the the conviction to force himself to relax. Eventually, the pain abated to a manageable throb and he accepted the opportunity to close his eyes. But that subtle change in position had moved his head in order to relieve some of the pressure across his right side. The side of his face rocked gently into the soft blue case of the top pillow. It was just enough for him to inhale the faint scent of awapuhi kuahiwi flowers. Just enough for Steve to feel the too fresh pang of loss as he fell asleep to the soft lingering perfume.

_**~ END ~** _


End file.
